


Schooled

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So Dave,” you say, shooting him a side-eye. “Ever think about filling buckets?”</p><p>That last line might’ve been a little too Eridan, but hey. Being coy never got a motherfucker anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Schooled

**Author's Note:**

> written for a homesmut prompt requesting dave/tavros/gamzee college au shenanigans.

**=⇒ Tavros: get flushed for a coolkid**

It all starts out on a day like any other. You’d just finished going over some lecture notes, and your roommate-slash-best-bro Gamzee had just finished definitely not doing that. At this point in the afternoon, you two are usually about to get down to either starting some sick fires or fooling around until you get hungry.

Normally you would be quite happy for things to proceed as usual, but today there’s something nagging at the back of your mind that you can’t quite seem to shake off. Namely, the human Dave Strider. You’ve seen him around a lot for the past few weeks, and you’re beginning to fear that you may be developing something of a crush. Rufio probably doesn’t appreciate getting lumped in with the small posse of starstruck freshmen who follow Dave around at all times, but there it is. 

It’s just that, well.  His rhymes are so ill, and his hair is so blond, and one time in the library you dropped your pen and he flashstepped out of nowhere and presented it to you with an ironic flourish. You must have gotten a stupid look on your face thinking about it or something, because Gamzee stops whatever he was doing before and glances over at you. 

“You cool, brother?”

“Yeah,” you say, and then, because you’re pretty bad at telling Gamzee things that aren’t the truth; “Uh. No. Actually.” 

Gamzee’s spaced-out grin gets a little less spaced, which for him is a moderately serious expression of concern. 

“Well, what the motherfuck is up?”

You wonder how the hell you’re supposed to word this. “I—you know Dave Strider? I think I might, uhh.” You trail off. There’s no way you’re going to be able to admit this out loud. “Never mind.”

Gamzee is silent for a few moments, and you dare to hope that he’ll let it go and you two can continue on with your day as if you didn’t just almost admit to the thing that you almost admitted to.

Then he says, “Think you might be kickin’ up some redrom for him?” The words sound just as mundane as if he was asking what they should watch on TV. You attempt to pull yourself together enough for plausible deniability, but you can already feel the rusty blush spreading across your face. Your voice cracks unconvincingly when you try to talk next. 

“Um, I don’t think. I mean. Uhh—”

Gamzee talks over you, perhaps sensing your distress. 

“It’s cool, Tav. I wouldn’t up and mind seeing what he’s all about myself, if you know what I motherfuckin’ mean.”

You do, in fact, know what he motherfuckin’ means. For a while it’s all you can do to just stare at him dumbly, attempting to process this information without letting your mind entertain any thoughts of the two of them making out. With each other. Sloppily.

Gamzee dials his grin back up to full spaciness, and you can tell he is making no such efforts. “Hell, maybe the three of us could all up and experience a miracle.”

It’s possible that you let out some kind of squeak. Clearly that's a ridiculous idea. Clearly.

Before you have a chance to regain control of your voice and explain this to Gamzee, he sprawls out warmly against you and nudges against your neck, thumb rubbing the base of one horn. You don’t exactly squeak again, but it’s a close call.

He kisses you there and then moves up to your mouth, slow and languid. For a while, this whole thing doesn’t seem quite as important.

That night, however, the thoughts return in full force. As the sound of Gamzee snoring away fills your dorm room, you lie awake and wonder what it would be like if the three of you did get down to experiencing some miracles, after all. 

Horribly embarrassing and ultimately unpleasant for everyone invovled, probably, suggests a small and fatalistic part of you. You imagine Rufio kicking it in the shame-globes and feel a little better. 

Your eyelids grow heavy and you start drifting off to sleep, reassuring yourself with the thought that no matter how distressingly attractive the idea had sounded, Gamzee would forget the entire exchange by tomorrow morning.

  
 **=⇒ Gamzee: forget the entire exchange by tomorrow morning**

  
Now, why would you up and do that? 

Tavros is already gone when you wake up, at some morning class. But the way he looked when you mentioned that putting the moves on Dave Strider could be a team effort, all fidgety and blushing, that’s the shit that stays with you even if you can’t quite remember what all you had for breakfast.

You decide, because Tavros is gone and you don’t have any classes today and most of all because you are one giving motherfucker, to see if you can’t put this miracle into motion.

But first, time to get your zone on for a while longer. 

It takes another hour or so but eventually you’re out of your dorm room and in the quad, riding a pretty solid high with the day’s third Faygo in hand. Makes it a little bit harder to concentrate on things, but you’re used to that by now. You find an empty patch of grass and kick back, figuring you’ll wait until Dave shows up somewhere in this general vicinity and then improvise from there. 

While you wait you get to thinking. And you have to admit, even considering how much you dig the whole rails with pails thing you have going with Tavros right now, you can see what he likes about Dave. 

As a fellow slammer you are duty-bound to report the sickness of his fires, and as the kind of motherfucker who doesn’t discriminate you can’t help but notice that his ass is pretty choice. You’re also nearly certain you’ve gotten stoned with him once or twice, although the way the humans do it never really spoke to you. 

Just as you’re starting to get kinda sleepy, you see Dave walking by, not far from where you’re sitting. Fuckin’ miracles.

You wave him over and he comes to stand in front of you, arms folded and eyebrows raised above his shades. 

“What’s up, motherfucker?” 

Dave shrugs. “Just been sitting in my dorm room, hunched over a napkin full of Hamburger Helper because I’m too poor to buy food that doesn’t taste like radioactive waste.”

You nod sympathetically and then grin to yourself. Now the only thing left to do is steer the conversation around to some troll-on-man-on-troll action, and it’s mission accomplished. Should be a snap. You like to think of yourself as a pretty suave dude. 

“So Dave,” you say, shooting him a side-eye. “Ever think about filling buckets?”

That last line might’ve been a little too Eridan, but hey. Being coy never got a motherfucker anywhere.

Dave remains pokerfaced, and you wonder if maybe he didn’t hear you, but then his shoulders start to shake with poorly concealed laughter. Which wasn’t quite the reaction you were expecting, but it’s better than him just up and walking away, right?

“Oh my God,” says Dave. “Am I seriously being propositioned by a stoned juggalo?”

He looks around as if searching for affirmation, but there’s no one around except for you and him.

“That’s the situation, dog,” you say helpfully. “But really it’s more my bro Tavros’s idea.” 

“The jumpy one?” Dave manages after he’s calmed down a little. 

“That’s Tav.” 

Dave pauses to consider, the wheels turning in his head. For a few seconds you think he might just laugh again and walk away, which would be kind of a shame now that you up and put all this motherfucking effort into the situation.

“Alright,” he finally says, surprising you a little. “Let’s fill some buckets. Tomorrow night, 214 in Crocker Hall. Bring your friend.” 

“You got it, brother,” you say contentedly. Dave walks away, and you allow yourself to scope his ass freely as he does. Things, you think, are going pretty good. 

Tavros is already there when you head back to your room, absently biting a pencil as he pores over a textbook. He looks up and smiles when you walk in, and you smile back. You can’t wait to tell him about what all is going down tomorrow.

When you do, he lets out kind of a silent scream and practically topples out of his chair in distress. 

“No,” he says, “no no no no no,” but you’d been expecting that.

 

 **=⇒ Tavros: ignore this madness and keep studying**

You’re trying. Very hard, in fact. Because obviously this is not a thing that is going to happen, no matter what your bone bulge thinks about the matter. Not that bone bulges can think. It’s just that if yours could, it would probably—never mind. The fact of the matter is, if anything like what Gamzee is suggesting even begins to think about occuring, your head will explode from sheer embarrassment. 

Gamzee remains ignorant of these vital facts, instead maneuvering you away from the work you’d been doing and then sprawling all over you like some kind of big sexy blanket. He rakes his fingers gently across the buzzed sides of your mohawk, which is really just the opposite of fair, because he knows how you are about that.

“Now,” says Gamzee, sounding pretty much as businesslike as it’s possible for him to sound. The effect is sort of ruined by the way he’s scratching softly at the nape of your neck, however. “I’m not about pressuring a motherfucker into something he doesn’t wanna do.”

He takes his hands away from your head and holds them out in front of himself as if to illustrate his point, and you try not to seem too outwardly disappointed. Because that would be counterproductive. Yeah.

“But I’ve been getting my think on,” Gamzee continues, “and I got kind of a feeling that a motherfucker might be a little bit more down for this than he’s letting on.”

Your face is probably the color of a rusted pipe by now. You consider trying to deny it, but you haven’t really gotten any better at lying to Gamzee in the past 24 hours. 

Instead you slump against him, defeated. 

“But I’ve never filled a, um. You know. With a human, I mean.” That’s not even how the humans do it, if biology classes and more adventurous friends are to be believed. It’s difficult to imagine, and not for the first time you start to feel like you might be in over your head. 

Gamzee just shrugs, wide grin never leaving his face. “I’m sure it’ll up and take care of itself, brother,” he says. “Wanna get takeout?”

You spend the rest of the evening nervously watching Gamzee scarf down Thai food and seriously considering the merits of trying some slime, if only to gain a little bit of his blithe confidence about the whole situation.

That night you dream of hands all over you, on your bulge and up your nook, and you wake up trembling. 

You stay perfectly still until you have yourself under control again, and not long after that you hear Gamzee stirring. He’s all the way up before you leave for class, sitting around waggling his eyebrows ridiculously every time you make eye contact and coming over to kiss you before you step out the door.

That coupled with the dream makes it effectively impossible to concentrate in class. Time seems to be going by at twice its normal speed, and before you know it you’re dropping off your things at your room and waiting for Gamzee. A few minutes later, he comes shambling in. 

“You ready to get this show on the motherfuckin’ road?” he asks, grinning crookedly.

You gulp and nod instead of making a run for it, which you think displays admirable courage. 

The two of you walk to Dave’s room in relative silence, and soon you’re standing outside his door. Gamzee gives you one last eyebrow-laden look, and knocks. You have time to dash off a quick plea to Rufio, begging him to help you make it through this without throwing up or accidentally killing anyone, and then the door opens. 

Dave looks even cooler and blonder and more attractive than you remember, slouching against the doorframe and regarding you both from underneath his shades with an unreadable expression.

“Sup,” he says. 

“Sup,” says Gamzee. 

“Uhh,” you say. “Um. Hi.”

You can’t see his eyes, but you’re sure Dave is looking at you funny. You gulp. After a moment he steps aside, and you and Gamzee walk together past the point of no return.

 

 **=⇒ Dave: fill some buckets**

Oh, you intend to. As soon as you find out what that actually means. Rose wasn’t very clear about it when you asked, but that might have had something to do with you presenting the question in verse and utilizing a host of creative similes to assist you, each one slightly more worrying than the last. You didn’t even bother telling John, instead just asking him to beat it for the night with the promise of a totally bromantic shitty movie marathon sometime to make up for his unceremonious eviction. 

And so, here you are. Gamzee and Tavros file into your room, standing off to one side and warily eyeing the two beds that belong to you and Egbert. You’re pretty sure trolls use something different, recuperacoons or something, but you for one are not about to try and get your groove on vertically while covered in slime. You motion to your own bed and they both sit, looking up at you as though waiting for further instruction.

Tavros picks at a loose thread in the comforter with his shoulders hunched up as if he’s expecting some kind of full-frontal assault. Gamzee, in contrast, looks so chilled-out that he might reach absolute zero before anyone involved can even get a hand on his weird troll-dick. 

Figuring you might as well get this show on the road as fast as possible, you casually strip off your shirt. You toss it off to the side and Tavros studies your(toned, incredibly manly) torso in miniscule glances, looking up and then away every few seconds as if he’s afraid someone will catch him staring. Which is pretty stupid, seeing as you know what he’s doing and the only other person in the room besides the two of you is currently too busy getting his t-shirt stuck on his horns to see any human-scoping that might be going on.

Tavros seems to forget some of his embarrassment when he notices, smiling and reaching over to help. Once Gamzee is finally rid of his shirt, you can’t help boggling a little bit from underneath your shades.

He doesn’t have nipples or a bellybutton, the flat gray planes of his stomach reinforcing his sheer, unabashed alienness. For the first few seconds, it’s almost puppet levels of creepy. 

But it doesn’t take long for you to adjust, to notice the unexpectedly graceful ridge of his hipbone, and the way that easy muscles shift under his skin. By the time he starts undoing the buttons on Tavros’s collared shirt, revealing a frame that’s compact but surprisingly muscular, you’re starting to think that this is definitely something you can get on board with. 

Deciding that you’ve had enough of the hands-off approach, you sit down on the bed and lean forward to press your mouth against Tavros’s. He’s still practically vibrating with nerves, and you figure this will calm him down as well as anything. Not to toot your own horn or anything, but you are pretty much a deliriously good kisser. 

Actually, fuck that. Not only are you tooting your own horn, you are conducting a holy cavalry of horn-tooting angels who do nothing all day except sing about how great you are at kissing.

Obviously the fact still stands regardless of whether or not the species you happen to be kissing is a freaky gray alien with too many teeth. You expertly dodge those knife-sharp motherfuckers, bringing one hand up to trail ghost-touches down the back of Tavros’s neck as your mouths move together. He shivers and his lips part, probably so he can attempt to mumble out another stream of nervous gibberish. 

You quickly seize your opportunity, brushing your tongue against his once, gently, before you pull away. After you let him go, Tavros just looks around dazedly for a few seconds. He’s still blushing, but he looks a lot less likely to abscond at any moment. 

With that taken care of, you turn so that you’re within range of Gamzee. Not good to make anyone feel left out, after all. 

He’d been watching the two of you through half-closed eyes, his own lower lip caught absently between his teeth. You can feel his lazy smile against your mouth as you pull him closer, the two of you swapping long, unhurried kisses. 

You break it off after you hear Tavros inhale sharply, watching in amusement as he squirms.

 

 **=⇒ Gamzee: gauge Tavros’s reaction to all this**

You and your bro are all sorts of in tune with each other's emotions. You feelings-jam regularly, and the resulting synchronization is nothing short of motherfucking miraculous. However, you’re pretty sure anyone would be able to see how hot and bothered he’s getting as you and Dave mack on each other in this most glorious of interspecies makeouts. 

Dave stops kissing you for a moment only to travel lower, and Tavros’s eyes dart hungrily between his mouth on your throat and his hand fisted in your hair, maddeningly close to the base of one horn. Knowing that Tavros is watching and enjoying it turns you on even more, but just as you start working your hips none-too-subtly against the nearest surface with friction, which happens to be Dave’s knee, he pulls away from you. 

This, obviously, is ten kinds of uncool, but you feel a little better about it when Dave goes, “his turn,” and jerks his chin over at Tavros.

Tavros scoots closer to you obediently, his movements awkward as he attempts to conceal his tenting bone bulge. Dude is fooling a grand total of absolutely no one, but since you’re riding in the very same sexually frustrated boat, you let it go unmentioned. Instead, you tip his chin up a little bit for better access and then lean down to kiss him.

He practically melts into you, arms coming up to wrap around your neck. The two of you are made of slightly tougher stuff than humans, and you drag your teeth against his bottom lip in a way that probably would have left Dave bloody but only makes Tavros shudder and press closer. He’s definitely a lot more relaxed than before, and you take a moment to give Dave props because you get the feeling he knew this was how things would go. 

Once Tavros starts sucking on your tongue you kind of zone out, eyes closed as you stroke up and down his arms, over his chest, anywhere you can reach. Eventually, you feel Dave’s hand come down on your shoulder. 

“Alright,” he says, once again startling you right on out of the flow of things. You’d be more concerned about this fact if your gut wasn’t busy doing sexy gymnastics at the authority in his tone. 

If there was any doubt before, it’s clear now that Dave is the one running this particular show. From the way Tavros’s face colors as he digs his sharp nails into your arm, you think he might have arrived at the same conclusion. You both look over at him but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about the attention, getting up off the bed and unbuttoning his jeans. 

You finally get a good hard look at his weird human torso, puzzling vaguely over those two nubby-looking motherfuckers up top and the small indentation near the bottom that you’d noticed earlier, but before you can ask about them he’s all the way across the room, rummaging through the various piles of crap scattered throughout the room. 

“I gotta look for something,” he tosses over his shoulder. “Make yoursevles comfortable.” And then, as if to dispel even the slightest doubt in either of your minds as to what ‘get comfortable’ is supposed to mean: “Please whip out your own meat puppet before helping others.” 

You’re out of your pants in record time, grinning over at Tavros once it’s done in order to provide encouragement and moral support. You yourself have no qualms about being naked whenever nakedness is acceptable and also sometimes when it isn’t, but Tavros has always been weirdly reluctant about that kind of thing. You can’t imagine why, but you know that it’s his thing and you have to respect a motherfucker’s right to refrain from getting his nudity on. 

This time, however, he pops the button on his jeans and undoes his fly with increasingly assured movements, eventually throwing his pants over the edge of the bed and smiling back at you.

You waste no time in getting closer to Tavros. It would be rude to ignore Dave's instructions, after all. 

One hand moves up to his horns, careful as you softly brush over the sharp tip of one. He stutters out a quiet noise and scrambles for your bulge, groping around clumsily until he finally has it in his hand. He starts to pump, thumb pressed firmly against the ridge, and you groan. 

Dave knocks something over from wherever he is in the room, confirming your suspicions that he’s been scoping the two of you behind his shades this whole time.

“Doin’ alright, brother?” you manage to grit out, stumbling over a few words as Tavros continues. Dave just grunts in response, but you’re pretty sure he’s rummaging a little harder now. 

You reach over and start to stroke Tavros’s bulge with your free hand, jerking him off in time with the ungainly rhythm he’d established. You’re both making noises that are probably pretty embarrassing by any standards, slumping nearer and nearer to each other, breath hot on each other’s faces until you’re close enough to kiss.

Dave reappears before you can, with something that you vaguely recognize as a condom in one hand, and a bucket in the other. The sight of it only works the two of you up even further, and Dave peers interestedly at the way your fingers stroke circles at the base of Tavros’s horn, the way it makes him blush and work his hips up into your hand all the harder. 

“So that’s a thing, huh,” he says, and reaches out for yours, experimentally drawing one finger all the way up, from base to tip. 

“Sure fuckin’ is,” you affirm. He strokes along the length of it with the knuckles of one hand and you choke off a moan, your grip on Tavros’s bulge and horn tightening reflexively. 

Tavros takes a shuddery breath and half-twists away until you let up, face flushing as you and Dave both stare at him. “Uhh, if you kept going, I might have. Um. Sorry.” 

He trails off as Dave shakes his head disbelievingly, muttering something about Japanese animes.

 

 **=⇒ Dave: try not to lose your cool**

Ha. As if that could ever be a thing that happens. 

You will admit, however, that Tavros and Gamzee getting all up in each other’s freaky alien business has proven to be a lot hotter than previously expected. Your prolonged hunt for the bucket you stole from Terezi for cultural sensitivity purposes helped you regain some lost ground, pokerface-wise, but then Tavros had to start in with the porno dialogue, and now you’re back at square one. You take a few seconds to collect yourself before you get the ball rolling again. 

“Okay, boys,” you say eventually, scoping them out from behind your shades. There’s not a sinisterly writhing tentabulge in sight, but they’re definitely not identical to yours, either.

Clearly, total immersion tactics are the best way to learn more. Figuring you’ll give Tavros a while to recover from his outburst of moe, you kneel in between Gamzee’s legs and splay a hand out on his hip to hold him down. You give his bulge an experimental lick, peering up every few seconds to see how he’s taking it. He just bites his lip and grins doofily, loose grip on the bedsheets tightening as you take what you can fit into your mouth. 

Tavros ogles the two of you, mohawk thoroughly disheveled. If his eyes get any wider you’re pretty sure they’re going to pop out of his head and roll away into a corner to befriend all of Egbert’s empty Gushers boxes. 

Gamzee reaches out, maybe to grip his shoulder bracingly or something. You hollow your cheeks out and give him a good suck as he does, just to see. He ends up missing completely and kind of just aimlessly patting Tavros on the face.

Tavros gently removes Gamzee’s hand and scoots in closer, looking down at Dave with kind of an awed expression on his face before leaning in to kiss Gamzee. 

Your dick jumps at the sight of them, and you attempt to put your focus elsewhere so you don’t do anything disastrous like turn red. Besides, this whole blowjob thing requires concentration. Obviously you’re a sexual dynamo, but dick-sucking has just never been one of your strong suits.

Your mouth feels overfull and you’re possibly in danger of drooling and you can’t quite fit it all in, but Gamzee definitely doesn’t seem to mind. You lick over the tip, and and slick, bitter indigo coats your tongue. 

Tavros kisses down Gamzee’s neck, biting at the junction between shoulder and collarbone when he groans. Figuring you may as well try for the elusive X2 double bone bulge combo, you reach over with your free hand and start jerking him off at the same time. It isn’t the most graceful thing in the world, and your shades get knocked askew, but you’re too busy trying not to shiver whenever Gamzee rocks up into your mouth or Tavros makes a soft noise in the back of his throat to really care all that much. 

It doesn’t take long until both of them are breathless, moaning putty in your hands. You would feel a lot more smug about this fact if you yourself weren’t dangerously close to losing it again. And this time there’s no bucket-hunt to save you.

You’re already hard, dick pressing insistently at the fabric of your briefs, and while Gamzee seems pretty lost to the world at this point, Tavros is blatantly checking you out. You brush your thumb deliberately against his slit and then stroke harder to take the attention away from your junk, and he swears quietly under his breath. 

Gamzee speaks up then, head canted backward, messy hair sticking out all over the place as he gives a particularly hard thrust up into your mouth.

“Motherfuck, bro, I’m gonna—”

You pull off of him with lightning speed, wiping away any errant fluids and adjusting your shades as you stand up. The only thing giving you away now is the imprint of the carpet on your knees, reminding everyone of how you’d previously been parked there like some kind of Nebraskan cheerleader getting intimate with the football team in a seedy motel room. 

Gamzee and Tavros let out identical noises of frustration, and you just smirk at them cryptically.

 

“Don’t know about you, but I’m not quite finished yet.”

Not bothering to wait for an answer, you pull down your briefs and toss them away with the rest of the clothes. You’re now stripped down the shades, which is as naked as you ever get. 

Both of them give you a once-over: Tavros glances quickly up and down and then looking away, while Gamzee pays Dave Jr. such rapt and unabashed attention that frankly you’re getting a little disconcerted.

“Fuckin’ miracles,” he says to no one in particular.

 

 **=⇒Tavros: observe Gamzee doing a faceplant into Dave’s crotch**

It’s, uh. Kind of hard to miss. One minute Dave is just kind of standing there, looking as inscrutable as ever, and the next Gamzee tugs him forward by the hips until they’re nose-to-dick, which you are pretty sure is not a thing that Dave was expecting. Still, he pulls it off with aplomb. 

You make a low, quiet noise without really meaning to, reaching down to palm your bulge with your eyes fixed on Gamzee and Dave. Gamzee licks a path from Dave’s hip to his odd human bone bulge, which is hard and flushed enticingly with red blood. You wonder vaguely what it tastes like, attempting to cover up another sound. 

And then, like some kind of horrible thought-reading wizard, Gamzee looks up from his ministrations to make eye contact with you, eyes darting down to Dave and then back up as he jerks his head a little. For a moment you wonder what he’s doing, and then he makes a few emotive hand gestures and it hits you.

Oh, no. No no. That isn’t going to happen. You feel yourself flushing horribly at the very thought, even as your bulge twitches in your hand. Clearly it is traitorous and perverted and you should go back to placating it and ignoring Gamzee completely, but he just keeps giving you that expectant look and if you listen very carefully you can hear that Dave’s breath is coming a little faster as Gamzee bobs up and down on him and oh fuck.

Gamzee helpfully scoots over and pulls off a bit as you come closer, giving you room to work. 

This close up you can almost see what might be the outline of Dave’s eyes behind his shades, and you’re pretty sure they widen a little bit as you lick him for the first time, concentrating on the base while Gamzee sucks the head. 

The two of you give him a pretty good working-over, making up in enthusiasm what you lack in finesse. You even kind of forget about how this is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen after a while, falling into a rhythm with your tongue occasionally brushing wetly against Gamzee’s as you move up and down. 

Dave is definitely breathing faster now, the occasional strangled moan slipping through as Gamzee licks his head in broad,flat stripes and you suck on his shaft. Every so often his hands come up to grip convulsively at one of your horns. You’re so hard it hurts, and pretty soon you’ve taken to grinding down against his bedsheets, even though you’ll probably end up leaving a stain. Laundry is kind of not the most important thing to you right now. 

“Fucking hell,” Dave grits out eventually, working himself out of your grip and looking a little bit like it physically pains him to do so. You can’t help but feel kind of smug, because this is the first time so far that Dave’s actually looked close to losing his shit. 

“Enough of this shit,” he continues. “I think it’s time for the main event.” 

“About motherfuckin’ time,” says Gamzee, grinning crookedly. You concentrate on trying not to look too panicked. 

Gamzee immediately pulls you in for a kiss, both of you still tasting like Dave. After you break apart, he takes your hand and guides it down past his bulge and shame-globes, to the entrance of his nook. It’s slick with fluid, just like yours, and he waggles his eyebrows at you one more time before spreading himself out into a more accessible position. 

“I think our human brother could use a demonstration of how this all goes down,” he says. 

You gulp and nod, making sure the bucket is readily accessible before carefully pressing a finger inside of him. Dave watches carefully, one hand resting on your leg. 

You aren’t too experienced with this, and you hope to Rufio that you haven’t come this far only to give Gamzee some kind of internal organ damage. But he seems to be enjoying himself as you continue pushing your finger in and out, working it a little deeper each time. Soon you add another, gently scissoring them apart inside him and relishing his hissed noise of pleasure, the way he clenches and relaxes around you.

 **=⇒Gamzee: get fucked by Tavros**

That does seem to be how things are getting set to turn out. As you jerk and shudder against Tavros, forgetting everything except the little sparks of pleasure every time he pushes his fingers back into you, you wonder what the motherfuck is up with you guys not doing it this way all the time.

Tavros finger-fucks you good and hard, until your nook is practically dripping and you’d be motherfucking begging for it if you could just remember how to talk coherently. Soon he lines up to push into you, his bulge just as flushed as his face, and you clench your fingers uselessly in the sheets as your hips rise to meet him. 

All the breath hisses out of you once he’s inside, and you do your best to relax while still bracing for that first, miraculous thrust—but it never comes.

“Not too different, then,” you hear Dave’s strangled-sounding voice say instead, and then he crouches over to do something to Tavros that makes him go stock-still and then start trembling all over. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see what the motherfuck is up, and spot Dave rubbing his fingertips methodically over the entrance to Tavros’s nook. 

He slides one in and Tavros’s bulge twitches inside you, which is pretty much the straw that broke the motherfucking hoofbeast’s back.

“Fuck, man, please,” you gasp out. 

Your voice seems to bring Tavros back to reality, and he pulls back out of you just as Dave pushes into him, inch by agonizing inch, and it’s hard to think about anything. You both gasp harshly. 

You’re pretty sure Dave’s sunglasses are knocked askew again, but this time he doesn’t reach up to fix them. For a few moments all three of you are still, waiting for Tavros to acclimatize. Soon enough he’s nodding, and then Dave pushes in just as he pulls out.

You repeat things this way a few times, both of them going slow and careful in an attempt to keep up the rhythm while you writhe unabashedly underneath them, but it doesn’t take long for the three of you to devolve into a shivery, shamelessly rutting pile of horny motherfuckers.

Tavros is full-on whimpering by now, caught in between you and Dave and not sure whether to push further into your or back onto Dave. There’s a grin on your face that you’re pretty sure is gonna stay there for a long-ass time, and it only grows wider as Tavros slams his hips against you and you feel yourself getting close.

Tavros must be getting the same kind of feeling, because he pulls out of you with a stricken-sounding gasp and half-moans, “bucket bucket bucket—”

Dave pulls out of him reluctantly and passes it over, watching you and Tavros lose your previously tenuous grasp on control at the sight of it, kissing sloppily and with teeth as you edge each other closer. Tavros comes first, letting out a high whine as he positions himself over it and spills in, spasming uncontrollably for a few seconds afterwards.

You’re only a moment later, sighing contentedly as you empty yourself and watch your own fluids mixing in with Tavros’s. Like a motherfuckin’ PB&J sandwich, except sexy as hell. And not quite as appetizing.

It’s only when the both of you turn around and see Dave observing the spectacle with one eyebrow cocked that you remember he’s been watching this whole time, and it’s plain to see that he’s still achingly hard.

You and Tavros look at each other, and, because of your previously aforementioned miraculous synchronization, know exactly what to do. 

It only takes a few pumps of both your hands, fingers laced together around his cock for him to come, giving a highly undignified sound that resembles a yelp as a comparatively small amount of clear whitish fluid spurts out of him. You examine it closely, because it looks an awful lot like miracles.

 **=⇒ Gamzee: sleep**

Before you can investigate further, Dave tugs you in for some sweaty, sticky post-coital cuddling that probably involves irony in some way. Tavros crawls over to join you, still panting, and even though it’s too hot and you’re all gross and you’d been getting your think on that you could probably use a pie, your eyelids grow heavy and you drop off to sleep.

 **=⇒Tavros: sleep**

Uh. Wow. Things definitely went kind of a whole lot better than you expected them to, and no one died or threw up which is always a plus. But the thing is, is that Dave is kind of petting your hair, and Gamzee’s face is pressed into your neck, and you feel so warm and kind of weirdly melty that you think you might just have to go to sleep for a while. Yeah, sleep.

 **=⇒ Dave: sleep**

Yeah, right. Unlike these troll girly-men, you have enough stamina that you don’t turn into some gray-devil version of sleeping beauty every time you deliver a dicking. 

Although. It’s not like anyone on the face of the earth ever is going to know this, but you think they actually look kind of cute all fucked-out and sleepy like this. You probably won’t kick them and their creepy bucket out on their asses just yet.

As you start zoning out, your mind drifts to the pair of ironic fur-lined handcuffs you have lying around somewhere in the mess that is your room. You begin to think that you could, quite possibly, put them to some interesting use in the near future.


End file.
